He walked against that vast and frozen land, his figure wrapped in heavy fur and his mighty boots making dents upon the earth, sols allowing prints within that dry snow.
His skin, in all its misery, was placed inside such discomfort due to a great many rumors. He had come all that way because that idiotic American had, because wherever that idiotic American had went, he would follow, and he would succeed in all their stupid games.
Because he was Russian. And his name was Ivan.
And at that moment, he wondered why indeed he had made such a fateful trip away from his sweet and warm little home, all to nearly freeze to death in the aggressive hands of that barren land.
Ivan walked for what felt as hours-at least, he thought they were- and nothing came into those large and emptied hands. His blood filled with frustration and boiled, and for a great moment, he sat, taking in long breath of the frustration devouring him and praying for a reason to continue walking.
The bag came from his tired back and pressed into that horrid and spiteful frost, the clasps coming undone and a smaller container pulled from its innards. Ivan removed the lid and retrieved a loaf of bread from that mocking shell and took a desperate bite, hungry from so many aimless and forced steps.
"Ah!" He yelled in his partial relief and leaned back upon his right arm, wanting to scratch away the developing snow from his face, yet could not remove those gloves or the gathering ice upon them. "This place…I'm going to freeze to death." Another bite of that still substance.
Eyes touched to that environment and found nothing but winds contaminated with cruel spears of frost, kept so well inside that expansive nothingness.
Again, he wondered why he had come.
After minutes of sloppy and tired deliberation, thoughts had born and died within the silence. And suddenly, there was break through.
It was screaming.
And it was loud.
Immediately, the man rose and took his tangibles with him, knowing that if he was to leave them, they would never be found, and he followed that great agony, wondering if it was only a cruel trick built of his own ebbing insanity.
But it was something, and until then, there had been nothing.
Another blood curdling shout penetrated that bustling air, and Ivan kept his footsteps toward it, even though the snow squirming around him took the form of a blindfold. He lidded his vision against it, pained curtains taking the harm there would have likely been, and the man kept running, refusing to lose the one thing he might have obtained that entire and sufferable trip.
"Hello?!" His shouts came in English, hoping he could evoke any sort of response. "Are you alright?!"
That howling grew nearer and Ivan opened his eyes only a moment to find a thin creature running so quickly to him, its form in a panic and its flesh kept completely nude.
In slight surprise, Ivan shouted back, that odd and worried monster slamming into him and falling upon its backside, still yelling and crying and evoking horrid fear in either party.
Finally, calmness came as relief to a horrid storm, either pair of eyes locking with that nude creature infecting its own cheeks with frozen emotion and that nervous mouth gaping.
"Hey…Are you alright?"
The Russian man took a slight and gentle step towards that panicked figure and arms flew before its face, distress pouring away in unknown words from its sobbing mouth.
"I won't hurt you…" And knowing that he could not produce communication in either tongue, he utilized Russian, his words softer and far less coarse.
Slowly, his bag came to that marred ice and was set open, palms carefully sorting through that mass of items inhabiting it and pulled another container of bread from its core, stored the same way his last meal was. That wondrous essence was pulled from its hallowed shell and offered to the shaking thing. Those fingers kept in hesitance, but finally accepted that benevolent prize.
Yet, as soon as that sweet nourishment was obtained, it was dropped in fear and picked back up again, confused eyes of the emaciated being meeting with the donor of that odd substance.
"You eat it…"
The Russian man pretended to hold the bread and took an accentuated bite, imitating that chewing actions and rubbing his stomach afterwards, and feeling quite ridiculous he did so.
And that odd thing took a hefty bite, chewing with large bites and drawing circles about his stomach in the process.
Ivan smiled, observing that naked life with great amusement.
He wanted to believe that this odd creature was a human male, but who could survive in Antarctica without clothing and starving? Ivan barely held onto his energy within all his different layers and the abundance inside that wondrous kit.
"Did you enjoy that?"
Those deep blue eyes spoke of nothing but curious computation.
"Why don't you return with me? I'll get you some clothing and I'll give you something to eat…"
And that odd and moving statue of freezing flesh and marrow stood, anatomy calm and far taller than Ivan had suspected, although he still fell well below the Russian's boastful height.
"Sssssss-sssooo-mmmm"
"Something…" Ivan urged his word forward.
"Ssssssoooommmeee…t-th-tttthhh…"
"Thing…"
"Tt-tthiiing."
"Can you speak?"
"Sssssppp-pppeeeaaa-aaak. Ssssppppeeeeaaaak."
Ivan nodded. "Speak."
And that new teacher pointed to his lips and brought his hand slowly away, as if removing sound sleeping upon his tongue. "Speak."
"Ssspppeeeaaak." The action was repeated. "Sspeeak!"
"Yes. Speak."
"Yyy…eeeessss. Yyyeee-esss."
"Yes."
Ivan finally held out his hand was given a response in inquiry of those glassy and dense jewels. In uneducated curiosity, the starving man took that large palm and held to it as though it was a holy relic willing to save him from the hell he was perpetually lost inside.
"Sssspppeee-Ssspeeak. Yyyessss."
"Yes. Will you come with me?"
"Cccc-oooome."
"Come." Ivan gestured towards himself as if pulling a lengthily rope tied around that soul's thin waist. "With me." And that large man touched to his heart. "Come with me. Yes?"
"Y-yesss."
"Good."
"Gooooo."
"Good."
"Gooood."
And the pair traced back to that man's camp, Ivan uncertain of what he had found, yet knew he could stop looking.